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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568994">For Gotham</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile'>Miss_Vile</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nygmobblepot One Shots [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Season/Series 05, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:40:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You could still leave,” he stared at the depths of his glass, “You still have the submarine. And you have money. Why not run away to the mainland?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jim Gordon &amp; Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot &amp; Jim Gordon, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nygmobblepot One Shots [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Gotham</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote something cute and fluffy last time so have a dollop of sads. And by dollop... I mean get your tissues.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Drink?” Jim asked, turning to face the man that just walked into his office.</p><p> </p><p>Ed, his hair a mess and eyes swollen, took a seat and accepted the glass of whiskey. Silently, they both sipped at their respective glasses. Jim was the first to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“You could still leave,” he stared at the depths of his glass, “You still have the submarine. And you have money. Why not run away to the mainland?”</p><p> </p><p>“What point is there in escaping if I can't enjoy that life with Oswald?” Ed answered honestly.</p><p> </p><p>Jim frowned. He'd spent most of that morning drinking in the morgue beside the body of the former kingpin. He and Ed were supposed to escape on the submarine that morning, but something had compelled the smaller man to stay behind. He and the remnants of his men had attempted to infiltrate his old base at City Hall, but a well-placed bullet from Nyssa al Ghul put an end to that.</p><p> </p><p>Ed had been too late. His friend had bled out long before he could reach him. By the time Jim got to them, Ed was sobbing over his corpse and pleading with him to open his eyes. Several men had to pry him away from the scene so that they could move the body to the Green Zone. Harvey screamed at Jim the whole way and cursed him for not leaving the man there to rot on the street. Leaving Oswald there with a bullet lodged in his heart and his blood pooling on the steps of City Hall didn't sit well with him.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm staying,” Ed announced, “I'll help fight.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ed, this is suicide.”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps,” Ed agreed with a nod, “But it's what Oswald would have done.”</p><p> </p><p><a id="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a1499" name="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a1499"></a> “I don't disagree with you there,” he smirked. If Oswald were still alive, he would likely be where Ed was— spouting off poetics about how his blood lived in Gotham's broken concrete.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn't he just leave with me?” Ed's voice was small, “Everything was ready to go. All he had to do was get in.”</p><p> </p><p><a id="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a14992" name="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a14992"></a><a id="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a14991" name="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a14991"></a> “Ed, Oswald loved this city—”</p><p> </p><p><a id="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a14993" name="docs-internal-guid-433f771d-7fff-c293-fec2-8a47261a14993"></a> “—He loved me too,” his voice cracked, “Once.”</p><p> </p><p>Jim's heart clenched. It was no real secret how much the Penguin cared for his friend. The papers did a swell job of highlighting that fact and anyone close enough to them could see it clear as day. All but Ed, of course.</p><p> </p><p>“He still did,” Jim said, “Up until the very end.”</p><p> </p><p>“I'm not so sure about that,” Ed's frown deepened.</p><p> </p><p>“Why's that?”</p><p> </p><p>“He left me on that pier and said he was going to follow his heart,” he chuckled, “If that were true and he still loved me, we would be safely on the mainland. Drinking. Having a laugh... watching the army burn the city to the ground.”</p><p> </p><p>Jim rolled his eyes at how Ed reveled in the visual, “I don't think that meant he didn't love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I'll never know for sure, will I?” his eyes watered, but none of the tears dared to trail down his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Did he know that you loved him?” Jim asked, hopeful he hadn't crossed a line. Ed's feelings had never been stated out loud, but Jim knew. Everyone knew. Deep down, he thinks even Oswald knew.</p><p> </p><p>“I told him I would miss him if he left...”</p><p> </p><p>“That's not the same, Ed.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Ed sulked, “I never got the chance.”</p><p> </p><p>Jim wasn't sure what to say to that. Nothing that he <em>could</em> say would change the fact that the man was dead and Ed had missed his opportunity. Ed knew that much, he didn't need Jim to remind him of that fact or rub it in his face.</p><p> </p><p>The sky grew dark outside. The city had become so much colder after Oswald was shot. Droplets landed on the window and the two of them sat in silence as the rain fell steadily into a downpour.</p><p> </p><p>“Oswald always warned me about an incoming storm. For years, I ignored him. But it's finally here,” Jim said, attempting to change the subject.</p><p> </p><p>“That it is,” Ed nodded, sipping his whiskey. He chuckled, “It is odd how the weather seemed in sync with Oswald. It always rained when he was sad. I never really noticed it until he was Mayor.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess we know who to blame for the flooding then,” Jim smirked, “I never really noticed it before, but you're right. He did seem oddly connected to Gotham. In a way even I couldn't quite put my finger on.”</p><p> </p><p>“He was,” Ed finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the desk, “We've not exactly had the best relationship, you and I.”</p><p> </p><p>“That's putting it mildly,” Jim raised an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“You told me that you considered me a friend once upon a time. I was... lost, but I thought of you as a friend then too,” he sighed, “Oswald never stopped thinking of you as one.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is something I do regret,” Jim admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I never told him that I actually appreciated all that he did for Gotham over the years. Or for me,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “I guess I just never really understood it.”</p><p> </p><p>“When he loved someone, he loved them pretty intensely,” Ed smirked.</p><p> </p><p>Jim swallowed. Before he could open his mouth to stumble over what that even meant, Harvey Bullock barged into his office.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Harvey shouted, “The army just busted through the GCPD checkpoint. They're heading for the barricades. Bane's leading 'em.”</p><p> </p><p>“How many men?” Jim stood, eyes wide.</p><p> </p><p>“Six? Seven hundred?”</p><p> </p><p>“How many do we have?” Ed asked, donning his hat.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe thirty,” Harvey replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Still want to fight?” Jim asked, worry laced on every word.</p><p> </p><p>“I already said I was staying for Oswald,” he adjusted the gun in his hand, “Shall we? I believe time is of the essence.”</p><p> </p><p>They marched for the barricade— their steps heavy and deliberate. Jim barked orders at his men as they approached. Ed didn't wait for any directions and simply made his way towards the front.</p><p> </p><p>“For Gotham,” he said, the tears in his eyes finally spilling down his face.</p><p> </p><p>“For Gotham,” Jim echoed before the hail of bullets rained down on the battlefield.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After the battle, Jim kissed Lee on the cheek. He held his daughter in his arms and cried. Everything had worked out by the end of it all. The ache in his muscles and the emptiness of his stomach had been worth it. He gave his loved ones one last look before excusing himself for the morgue.</p><p> </p><p>Most of their dead were lined up along the sidewalk outside, but Jim requested that these two be placed somewhere out of sight. The Penguin and the Riddler didn't have many allies outside of himself and Jim wanted the opportunity to mourn them in peace.</p><p> </p><p>Ed fought for as long as he could but the wounds he sustained from a grenade blast had been too much. The shrapnel and subsequent blood loss had left him too weak to keep fighting. The man slumped over by the stairwell, requesting a moment's rest, the last time Jim had seen him. According to Harvey, he never made it off the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Gentlemen,” Jim said, pulling three shot glasses from his pocket, “Gotham is safe again, thanks to you.”</p><p> </p><p>He poured the last of his whiskey into the glasses and sat down. He fiddled with the shot in his hand, some of the amber liquid spilling out over his dirty and calloused hands. He hissed at the dull burn.</p><p> </p><p>“Nyssa al Ghul was distracted enough by Oswald and his men that Barbara was able to escape with the baby. So... thank you,” he stared at Oswald's body— his face so relaxed that he barely even looked like the man he once knew. Part of him almost wished that it <em>wasn't</em> and Oswald would walk through the doors of the GCPD like he had all those years ago. He brushed a stray hair from his face and felt his fingers tremble at the coldness of his skin.</p><p> </p><p>Jim turned his attention to Ed. Lee had tried to save him when he was brought in. But his pulse was too weak and his wounds were too great. Knowing there was nothing she could do, Lee had him moved to the morgue beside Oswald. He curled his fingers around his dead friend's and took his last breath. And that was where he remained.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for staying, Ed,” Jim took the shot and placed it face down on the table next to the two remaining glasses. He stood, groaned at the pain of his broken ribs, and blew out the single candle that illuminated the room. He closed the door behind them and left the two men reverently shrouded in darkness— Finally together, right at the end.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not crying. You're crying.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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